


the fire burns where the embers fall

by crookedspoon



Series: Exchange Fics [63]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Crying, Drugged Sex, Face-Fucking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Master/Slave, Multiple Orgasms, Object Insertion, POV Dick Grayson, Sex Pollen, Treat, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21784216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: They knew there was risk involved, but they had a case to solve. Dick could handle pretending to be Bruce's slave for a night.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Series: Exchange Fics [63]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/51139
Comments: 13
Kudos: 302
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2019





	the fire burns where the embers fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kmfillz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmfillz/gifts).



It was a risk, from the beginning. They knew that, going in. 

"You don't have to do this," Bruce said as he approached Dick with the leash. It was more the suggestion of a leash – filigree silver links that would signify Dick's surrender to Bruce. "We'll find another way."

"Bruce, don't worry about me." Dick tipped his head back, exposing the collar at his throat, silently giving permission for Bruce to hook the chain to it. "We've come this far already. We can't let them slip through our fingers just because you don't want me involved."

Bruce's frown was stern, but it was directed at the collar. Dick read worry in it. Worry about what might happen tonight. As if he still didn't trust Dick to handle himself. Or maybe Bruce was aware of how uncomfortable it made Dick to be objectified in this way. Dick had never liked being reduced to his looks. It was the kind of interpersonal thing Dick would not expect Bruce to notice, despite his highly trained powers of perception, because he himself did not take stock of his own attractiveness.

"So," Dick said and bounced on his toes. His nerves were already making themselves felt. "I'm your slave for the night. What do I have to do?"

"Follow orders." A tight smile pulled Bruce's lips into a thin line.

Dick snorted. "That I can do. _Master."_ He tried out the word; it lay heavy on his tongue. 

"Don't speak unless I tell you to. Keep your eyes down, your posture demure. Kneel at my feet. If they offer beverages, serve them to me."

"Be a very servile Alfred, got it."

Bruce shot him a warning look. There was a time for jokes and this was not it.

"Sorry, I'll shut up now."

Dick shrugged, then assumed his role, shoulders rounded forward, head down. Silent. A mere shadow of a person, always trailing about two feet behind Bruce, ready to receive instructions. He was empty save for the wish to be of use to his master. Dick could do this.

Bruce grunted his approval and led them to his Aston Martin. This confronted them with their first challenge: was Dick supposed to open the door for Bruce or was it the other way around? They decided that Dick would be more of an object that could perform direct tasks, a servant with the mind of a child, simple and moldable.

Dick's purpose was to give Bruce credibility. Their contacts were much more likely to open up and let them in on their shady dealings if they bought that Bruce had done shady dealings in the past.

The ride was smooth, the engine of the car all but silent, and yet Dick felt tremors run through him. He kept rubbing the ring finger of his left hand between the thumb and index finger of his right just so he wouldn't touch his collar. The collar was a simple velvet band with the initials 'BW' embroidered on the front, and a small ring that a leash could be hooked into. The decorative silver links of said leash barely weighed anything and yet they focused Dick's attention on the collar that peeked out above his dress shirt.

For anyone who looked at Dick, it would be a reminder that he was owned. For Dick, it was a reminder that he would need to watch himself. The weight at his throat was unfamiliar but Dick had to pretend that he was used to it, that being Bruce's property was second nature to him.

Dick was used to following orders, yes, but not to being a passive player who looked up to someone else for guidance.

It came too close to the memories he had of his days training with Bruce. Dick was not going to think about that now.

\---

It was a risk, but a calculated one.

"A fine specimen you have there, Mr. Wayne." The host danced around Dick, inspecting him from every angle. Dick did not get a good look at him but what he could see of his three-piece suit appeared to be well-tailored to his stout frame. "What price are you looking to fetch for him?"

"I'm afraid he's not for sale." Bruce tugged Dick closer to him, away from hands that no doubt were about to start an unwanted physical examination of Dick's qualities.

"What a shame," the host said without missing a beat and led them into a lavish sitting room. The rugs alone were worth a small fortune. "With those looks, he'd be making you a pretty sum, if you'll pardon the pun, even if that's all he has to offer."

Bruce sat down on the armchair he was offered but his smile never touched his eyes. "It is a good thing that I don't have to worry about money, then."

Dick felt the host's eyes on him as he sank down to kneel at Bruce's feet. "He's very well-behaved."

The cushioning the rug provided was not enough to offset the hardness of the stone floor. He shifted his weight to ease the twinge in his right knee.

"Too well-behaved, I'm afraid."

"Oh?" the host perked up, intrigued by this statement. "That is not something you hear lamented often."

Bruce twisted Dick's leash around his index finger, then let it fall loose again only to wind it back in. It jiggled the chain at his throat, making his skin feel hot.

"He's a good kid. Very obedient," Bruce said and rested his broad palm on Dick's shoulder. Its warmth pooled into him even through the fabric of his suit and Dick's eyelids fluttered when Bruce rubbed his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "He does whatever I tell him to do, and he does it well." Bruce's thumb brushed over Dick's neck, along the line of his jaw. "But sometimes I wish he'd show a little more enthusiasm, if you know what I mean?"

Dick fought down his blush. Every caress of Bruce's fingers left a phantom trail on Dick's skin that made Dick hyper-aware of all the places Bruce had touched so casually, knuckles ghosting over Dick's cheeks, brushing Dick's bangs from his eyes, running the pads of his fingers over the shell of Dick's ear. The worst phantom touch was on Dick's lips – he had been so tempted to flick out his tongue and suck Bruce's thumb into his mouth, but at the same time, this sudden display of intimacy had made Dick freeze up. Even now, as he wanted to run his tongue over his bottom lip or scrape his teeth over it to get rid of the lingering sensation, he was unable to move.

"If it's enthusiasm you're looking for, I'm sure we can provide you with an equally well-trained, ah, _companion_ who is capable of meeting that need."

Bruce leaned back in his seat and seemed to consider the suggestion. "I've been thinking about getting a companion for him to play with when I don't have the time, but—" he laughed— "I'm a jealous man and don't want anyone touching my property." Bruce gripped the back of Dick's neck gently, rubbing circles onto the skin beneath Dick's ear. "Even my other property."

Dick stared fixedly in front of him, trying to ignore the heat that was washing through him. The mere suggestion that Bruce would feel jealous over him had Dick's palms sweating. He wanted to rub them against his pants but instead he focused on the way his fingers were pressing into his thighs, enough for him to notice the pressure, not enough for anyone else to notice any indents or the whitening of skin.

"You're not interested in another companion for yourself?"

"I'm rather fond of this one," Bruce said and scratched the back of Dick's head. Pins and needles erupted across his skin. "And I was hoping you might have something on offer that might loosen him up."

"Well, we do have specialized training courses if you're looking for a more permanent solution." The man's leer was unmistakable in his voice. Dick felt his stomach turn – and then untie itself again as Bruce rubbed his back soothingly.

"I was thinking of a more immediate solution," Bruce smiled his cold businessman smile. "One that would not require anyone to touch him for prolonged periods of time."

"Oh no," the man laughed. "You would be the one directing him every step of the way – although I dare say that our in-house instructors have a quick turnover rate." Bruce just shot him a cool look. "Right. But you are looking for something fast-acting. We have just the thing."

"Do tell."

"It's just a little aphrodisiac, really. One that heightens the senses and lowers inhibitions. All natural ingredients. And the dosage is adjustable, depending on how _enthusiastic_ you want him. Or yourself, for that matter."

"Splendid," Bruce said and leaned forward, hands clasped around the leash. "That sounds exactly like what I was looking for. I would like to sample some of it."

"Of course. Just one second." The man called in someone through the intercom.

Dick's heart was kicking in his chest. That was easier than expected. Now all they had to do was bag the sample and compare it to the traces found on the three victims who appeared to have had a heart attack during the act of masturbation. The only thing that linked all of them was this place. Perhaps from here, they might find out who manufactured that stuff and shut them down.

The door opened and a stunningly beautiful man in a servant's uniform entered, carrying a silver tray. Dick blushed to see Bruce openly appraise him with his eyes before he flicked his gaze down again.

The tray clinked as the man placed it onto the low table on the other side of Bruce's armchair.

"Would you like to administer it yourself?" the host asked. "We will of course provide you with a room where you can test out the effects for the remainder of the night."

"In that case, I would like to have it brought to our room."

"I'm afraid we cannot actually hand a sample over to you," the host said, drumming his fingers on the desk in front of him. "Company policy, you understand."

"Of course. The competition must be fierce."

"Naturally. With a product like ours, it's to be expected. Everyone wants to reverse engineer the recipe or sell the samples to those who do. That is why your boy will have to ingest it here. But don't worry. You will have plenty of time to reach the privacy of your own rooms before the effects manifest, if that's what you are worried about."

Without thinking, Dick reached out to grip Bruce's ankle. They were so close. This was their one chance at getting a sample without alerting anyone that Batman was on their trail. They couldn't back out now simply because Bruce was worried about Dick. He could handle a little aphrodisiac.

Through his gesture, Dick suddenly had the attention of everyone in the room. It was strangely invasive after feeling like nothing more than a decoration for so long.

"What is it, boy?" Bruce said, touching Dick's cheek. "Speak up."

"I'm sorry I don't please you enough, master." Dick was surprised at how faint his own voice sounded, how frail and weak. "But I would like to – if that is your wish."

"My, my, what a heartwarming scene," the host said. "He wants to serve you the way you want him to. Why don't you give him the opportunity to prove himself?"

"Very well," Bruce said lightly, although Dick could feel Bruce's displeasure rolling off of him in waves. 

"Excellent. How strong would you like the effect to be?"

"Undiluted," Bruce said and wound Dick's chain around his fist until it was a taut line pulling at Dick's collar, reeling Dick in bit by bit so he would be leaning over the armchair. "We can work our way down from there."

\---

Maybe they hadn't known all the risks, going in. Maybe the risks weren't all calculated. But you can't always win everything.

Dick may have had to swallow the sample they were here for, but at least they wouldn't leave completely empty-handed. Dick told himself as much as he shuffled after Bruce to the room they were being escorted to. He was beginning to feel faint and feverish. His clothes were sticking to his skin or rubbing uncomfortably against it. His breath was coming in short bursts, as if walking alone was a tremendous effort.

Dick tried not to let anything show, even when the door closed behind them and they were alone. Especially after the door closed and they were alone.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked, conjuring up a blood sampling kit from somewhere on his person.

There was nowhere to sit except for the bed, so Dick lowered himself onto the foot of it and fumbled off the collar. It had been difficult to breathe with it on. "I think it's already taking effect."

Dick described his symptoms as he shrugged off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. He wanted to take that off, too, because he was so hot but he told himself he could handle it just a moment longer.

"You're burning up," Bruce said as he grasped Dick's elbow. Dick sucked in a breath. Just that touch alone set his nerve endings alight.

"I'm fine," he said, voice thick and barely sounding like his own.. "Just... hurry. I need a cold shower."

Bruce nodded and drew his blood for later analysis. Halfway through the last vial, Dick's vision began to swim. Black spots ate away at it and Dick felt like the ground beneath him vanished.

His head thudded onto the mattress and the next thing he knew, Bruce was touching him. Checking his eyes, checking his pulse, repeating his name to get his attention.

The thing was, Dick could barely focus on anything _but_ Bruce. His hands were strong and warm, and they were touching him.

"Bruce," Dick gasped and gripped them man's biceps so hard he was surely leaving marks. It was all he could do not to grind up against him, although he really, really wanted to. He was so hot and his clothes were so tight and Bruce was here, so close he could run his hands over his broad shoulders and back, and it was so hard to remember why that would be a bad idea.

The mere image of himself holding onto Bruce was intense enough to make Dick's eyes roll back.

"Bruce," he gasped again, out of breath but not yet out of control.

He'd promised Bruce he could handle himself. That he was stronger than whatever mind-altering substance was thrown his way. He'd survived several different strains of fear toxin relatively unscathed. A stimulant, however powerful, should be nothing compared to that.

And yet Dick found himself fighting an uphill battle. He needed to touch, and be touched, or else he was going to go crazy.

"You need to leave," he gritted out. Damn, but it was so difficult to wrap his tongue around the words when he really wanted to wrap it around something else.

He sucked two fingers into his mouth but it didn't compare. They left a cooling trail of saliva down his chin as he slid his hands over his chest. The touch was maddening, even through the fabric. His shirt was too closely cut to be easily discarded and his fingers were too sluggish to bother with the buttons.

"Please, Bruce," he whined, not knowing whether he was begging him to leave or begging for his help. With a cry, he gripped the sheets and arched off the bed, pathetically rubbing himself against the seam of his pants. "I don't want you to see me like this."

Dick sobbed in relief when he managed to open his pants and shove them down past his hips, just enough to free his swollen erection. The air of the room was cool against it and Dick shivered when a drop of pre-come ran down its length.

It was pulsing and Dick barely wanted to touch it with how sensitive it was. Even the lightest of touches would be too much. But at the same time he couldn't help but want to touch himself. He spit into his palm, hoping a little moisture would do the trick.

It did not. Dick's hand was too hot, too calloused, and his saliva not enough to ease the friction. Dick cried out, frustrated tears gathering at his eyes. Mindless with his need to come, with his need to touch himself and be touched, he rolled onto his stomach, sobbing when his erection brushed against the sheets. They were smooth like silk and slid against Dick's skin like a soft caress.

Somehow, Dick dragged himself to the bedside table to rummage through the drawer. Surely this locale would provide its guests with certain amenities. Bingo. Dick sighed in relief when he found a bottle of lube inside. It was blessedly cool on his fingers and even cooler on his cock. He sobbed, overwhelmed by the slick sensation, tears leaking from his eyes, drool from his mouth. Some part of him knew he was a mess, but he reveled in it. Fuck, it felt so good to finally be touching himself and he needed more.

With his face smushed into the mattress, Dick lifted his hips and slicked up his hole. His cock twitched when he slid two fingers inside. He had been horny before in his life, but never like this. He was shoving four fingers into himself and going down on the bottle of lube like it was an actual cock before he noticed the rounded shape of the bottle's bottom – top? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that it was vaguely cock-shaped and that Dick's hand was cramping.

As Dick slicked up the bottle, he vaguely wondered whether it was purposely designed to be used like this. The next moment he was pushing his pants down to his knees – he might even have heard a rip – and sinking down onto the bottle, shoving all thought out of his brain save for how amazing the thick, rigid length felt inside him.

Using his weight to force it deeper, Dick made the mistake of rolling his hips. His body clenched around the massive intrusion and that was his undoing. Dick threw his head back and came in thick ropes over himself and the bed, some of it even spattering his throat and chin.

Dick's breath was loud to his own ears as he continued riding the bottle. He gathered up some of the mess he's made on himself and brought it to his tongue, which was criminally underused and yearning to lick something.

Groaning, he flicked open his hazy eyes and there Bruce still was, standing next to the bed, rooted like a statue, as if he hadn't moved since Dick begged him to go.

"Bruce," Dick gasped his name again, unable to stop moving his hips, unable to stop licking around the fingers in his mouth, unable to stop himself from touching his still painfully erect cock. It was sensitive and the attention almost hurt, but he couldn't help himself. He moved his hand lower to squeeze his balls.

Bruce's eyes tracked the motion and he swallowed. Watching his Adam's apple bob like this sent a pulse of heat through Dick. But what made him even hotter was the obvious tent in Bruce's pants. He was hard for Dick and Dick wanted him.

"Bruce," Dick moaned and nearly fell off the bed in his haste to scramble toward Bruce.

Bruce caught him by the shoulders, careful not to let his hips anywhere near Dick's face. It mattered little, since Dick's hands had come up to grip them and were now following the stretched fabric to the hard cock that lay beneath.

Bruce pushed him away but was unable to let go of his shoulders, holding Dick at arm's length.

"We can't do this," he said, voice so rough Dick could almost feel it scrape against his skin.

"No good reason not to," Dick said, head rolling from one shoulder to the other, both light and heavy at the same time.

"Dick, you're my son."

"You're hard," Dick pointed out, reaching out to rub his hand over Bruce's clothed erection again. "You want this. You want _me."_

"No," Bruce insisted. "I don't. I can't."

He grabbed Dick's wrist and yanked it away. It was as though Dick was seventeen all over again – too eager to know when to quit and too determined to come clean about his feelings for Bruce. For years, Dick had wondered if Bruce would have reacted differently if only Dick had waited a few more weeks until his birthday. Knowing Bruce, those few weeks would have made little difference, but the uncertainty had driven Dick to distraction.

No other rejection had ever hurt that much. Not that Dick received many. Usually, he was the one doing the rejecting. It took him a long while to recover from this, to learn that he was wanted, that he was not disgusting for wanting something for himself.

And he wanted Bruce. He felt this desire with a clarity he hadn't allowed himself to feel for a decade. How much time he had wasted dating other people just to get rid of it...

"Please, Bruce, I need your help," Dick begged as he brought Bruce's hand to his erection. He hissed when his fingers brushed it. "It won't go down. Please, it hurts so much."

Bruce grunted and Dick nearly sobbed with joy when his rough hand closed around his length. Bruce knelt in front of him before he began pumping Dick's cock, surprisingly gently, and Dick arched his back with a cry, his thighs trembling and his hole clenching around the bottle of lube that was still stretching him wide.

He came almost immediately, knowing that it was Bruce who was touching him, and he fell around Bruce's shoulders, following a desire he had considered stamped out for good ages ago: he kissed Bruce. He gripped Bruce's head and slotted their lips together, letting his tongue invade Bruce's mouth and conquer it.

He wanted to slide into Bruce's lap, to grind against his hard cock, but his stupid pants were still in the way. Somehow he managed to toe off his shoes and kick them to the side, and then Bruce helped him out of his pants by tugging at the legs.

It brought his face close to Dick's cock that was still hard – or again. It was difficult to tell.

This time, Dick didn't need to beg. Bruce took him into his mouth all on his own and Dick nearly screamed the whole place down. Dick's fingers raked through the damp strands of Bruce's hair, holding onto fistfuls of it as Bruce's hot mouth engulfed him.

Dick's spine liquefied in the heat and he swooned onto the bed, gasping for breath as his whole body was growing taut from the pleasure.

"Bruce," he whined. "Bruce, I need your cock in my mouth. Please let me suck it."

Bruce's eyes were as glossy and dark as his lips as he gazed at Dick, and Dick didn't know that it was possible to be even more attracted to this man than he already had been.

Bruce pushed Dick back onto the bed before climbing onto it. The mattress dipped just above Dick's head as Bruce balanced himself there on his knees and finally, finally took out his cock. It was thick and dripping with pre-come already, and suddenly Dick's mouth was dry.

He gulped in deep breaths and extended his tongue as Bruce angled his cock toward it. Dick felt like he must be losing his mind. His entire body was tingling. This was way too good to be true. When the head of Bruce's cock finally slid across Dick's lips, Dick moaned and bucked up. He wrapped his arms around Bruce's powerful thighs, to keep him in place. The last thing Dick needed now was Bruce backing out again.

But Bruce didn't. With a groan that resonated through Dick, he pushed himself deeper, fucking Dick's mouth. He slid in and out at his leisure, and Dick's lips were so sensitive his hips began trembling again.

Bruce rubbed his hands over Dick's chest, squeezing it and pinching his nipples through his shirt. Flashes of bright hot pleasure zipped straight to the tip of Dick's cock that was wet and messy and spilling even more pre-come onto Dick's belly. It throbbed when Bruce undid the buttons of his shirt and exposed his sweating skin to the cooler air of the room – although it didn't feel much cooler now, not when Bruce's rough hand was caressing his skin while the other was cradling the back of Dick's neck.

The next moment Dick choked on Bruce's cock as he shoved it into Dick's throat. He breached the tight ring of muscle over and over, and twisted Dick's nipples as he did so.

Dick's hips spasmed all on their own and then his balls followed suit, spurting out what little come there was left in them.

Spots filled Dick's vision and his lungs began burning before Bruce pulled out, still hard as a rock and not yet satisfied.

With a muffled grunt, Dick heaved himself onto his elbows. The bottle of lube lay between his thighs, having slipped out of him while Bruce was using his face. Dick felt so empty now.

It took everything he had to sit up and swing himself around so he would be eye level with Bruce again. Dick's body was exhausted, wrung out and sluggish, but his desire was as pronounced as ever.

He held onto Bruce's shoulders to keep himself upright as he sank into Bruce's lap.

"Dick, enough," Bruce said with a hoarse voice. "The effect must have worn off by now."

Dick pressed his index finger to Bruce's lips. "You've seen the outcome this drug had on those who couldn't meet their need." They were not exactly certain that that was the cause of death, but it was one possibility they had to take into account.

"If it was even the same drug."

"Do you want to risk it?" 

Bruce's fingers digging into Dick's ass and spreading it apart was answer enough. Dick kissed Bruce deeply and desperately as he lined them up. He moaned Bruce's name as he sank onto his cock and felt the tip slip inside him easily. It was such a heady sensation.

The bottle of lube had been harder and wider than Bruce's cock, but Bruce's cock is hot and curving so deliciously inside and Dick can feel it pulsing with an echo of Bruce's heartbeat.

He leaned back to deepen the angle, and commanded his gaze as he rode him, daring him to look away. Bruce didn't. Instead, his eyes bore into Dick's with a heat that was almost palpable. Dick tensed up when Bruce gripped his tender cock and jerked it quickly, as if he wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

Much to Dick's dismay, he got his wish because it did not take long for him to lock up around Bruce's cock. He twitched and trembled, his own cock spitting out nothing more than a glob of clear fluid. It was disappointing to see, especially since every one of his orgasm brought them closer to the end of the night, and Dick was not ready to go back to the way things were before, to maybe even pretending that none of this ever happened or that it meant nothing because they were just doing it to potentially save Dick's life.

Thankfully, Bruce was not done yet. His fingers traced along the spot where they were conjoined, tickling and teasing Dick's rim as he did so.

"Fuck yeah, Bruce," Dick moaned, grinding himself harder onto his cock. "Put them inside."

Bruce did as suggested and Dick keened as Bruce's fingers curled into him alongside his cock, stretching Dick wider.

"Fuck," Dick breathed, cock throbbing with the raw sensation of it. He couldn't describe it any other way than 'intense.'

His entire world centered around Bruce inside him, and the next thing Dick knew, Bruce was pulling out and guiding him to his hands and knees.

Dick protested the loss of Bruce's cock, but Bruce shushed him, petting his hair and rubbing his back, kneading his ass. It was the latter that made Dick grow mostly still, anticipating the moment Bruce would penetrate him again.

But first Bruce was spreading him open and tonguing his hole. Dick nearly swallowed his own tongue. It was too much. Dick couldn't handle this much pleasure. He tried to squirm away but Bruce's hands on his hips were immovable and all Dick could do was squirm in place and endure the sweet torture of Bruce's tongue swirling around his rim and licking its way inside.

By the time Bruce nibbled on Dick's ass one last time, Dick couldn't tell anymore if the mess between his thighs was pre-come or actual come. The spot under his face is equally soaked because Dick had been biting his wrist to keep quiet, but had been unable to keep himself from drooling.

There was a squeak of plastic and then Dick nearly squeaked himself when something cold dribbled onto his hole. Bruce's thumbs smeared it across and into it before holding him open again.

This time, it wasn't Bruce's tongue that pressed against Dick, but something thicker and weightier. Dick's moan was throaty and low when Bruce pressed his cock into him. His hands knotted themselves into the sheets beneath him as he pushed back, needing Bruce so much deeper inside him.

"Fuck, Bruce, you're—this is fucking amazing. Don't stop, oh fuck."

Bruce's pace was a slow grind, making sure that each of Dick's nerve endings had ample time to get acquainted with the press and feel of Bruce's cock. He pushed himself all the way inside, until his hips were flush with Dick's, then he pulled out again, equally as slow. Dick shuddered every time the tip pulled at his rim before popping out.

Bruce alternated his cock with his fingers, spreading Dick's gaping hole ever wider until four fingers fit inside easily. Dick felt like he had to be transcending. He was flushed and tingling from head to toe, shuddering nonstop, and all he could focus on was Bruce's almost hypnotic technique.

Dick loved the stretch, loved it when Bruce left two or three fingers inside to hold him open when he added his cock to them, loved it when he changed up the pace by fucking into him hard and fast before pulling out again and sinking his fingers into him down to the last knuckle.

Dick's head was swimming with pleasure. He didn't know how often he had come since Bruce had started this or if it was one drawn-out orgasm that just kept building and building. He definitely spaced out once or twice, only to find himself jostled awake by Bruce using his body.

There was only so much pleasure a person could take.

It was almost a relief when Bruce finally came inside him. He'd been fucking Dick to the brink of insanity. The sheets were already sticking to him uncomfortably because of all the sweat, drool, and tears that his body had been producing.

Perhaps now he could fall onto his side and not move save for the involuntary twitching until it was time to pack up and leave.

It was then that Dick felt the pressure of Bruce's knuckles stretching him wide again. Dick actually sobbed out loud when Bruce's entire hand slid past his rim and was suddenly seated snugly inside him. Dick has never felt anything like it. He was so full – not only with Bruce's fist inside him, but with so many overwhelming feelings that he couldn't put names on.

Bruce eased his hand forward and back, and Dick tried his best to keep himself open although even the smallest movement rubbed Bruce's hand against Dick's prostate, and Dick was going mad with it. Dick didn't notice at first because he was so focused on breathing and weeping and staying relaxed, but Bruce was slowly increasing his speed – soon, he was thrusting his fist into Dick who was crying himself hoarse as he tightened hard around Bruce's wrist.

He must have come so hard he blacked out because for several moments afterwards, the world was nothing but a high-pitched buzzing sound.

\---

It was a risk neither one of them had wanted to calculate.

Dick was still crying by the time he came to again, wrecked and ruined. Or maybe his eyes were just leaking on their own. Hard to tell when you were this kaput. He felt empty and exhausted, but still a bit high at the same time, his entire body buzzing with happy chemicals.

Objectively, he knew he'd crossed a line. He knew sleeping with Bruce was a mistake. But he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he'd ever thought that. It was thanks to Bruce that he had been able to reach the brand new heights he had just experienced. He was so utterly sated because of them, like there was nothing currently lacking in his life.

Except maybe Bruce. Dick wouldn't mind having Bruce doze next to him. He just wanted to know Bruce was all right.

The man in question stepped out of the adjacent bathroom, wearing nothing but a bathrobe that was at least two sizes too small on his frame.

"Dick," he breathed, misery already clear on his usually stony features.

Dick shook his head and patted the space next to him on the mattress. Bruce's expression closed off again and he nodded, however reluctantly. He sat down with his back to Dick. 

"I used you," he said after a long silence, voice quiet but distinct. "There is no excuse for that."

"Done nothing wrong." Dick reached out to place his hand on Bruce's arm. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. It hurt to talk. "Part of the job."

Bruce huffed out a breath. Dick couldn't tell if it was closer to a laugh or a sob. "I should never have exposed you to this drug, knowing what it does. It was reckless and unnecessary."

"No time to waste."

"No, I was hasty. I could have come back later to get a cleaner sample."

"You'd have tipped them off."

"It's only a matter of time until they figure out we're onto them. We would have found their trail again."

"No need to search now." Dick squeezed Bruce's arm tighter, tugging it toward him. Bruce finally looked over his shoulder, but what he saw seemed to make him inexplicably sad again. "Hold me?"

"I've done enough damage for one night."

"No damage," Dick insisted. "Bruce, please."

In the end Bruce acquiesced, propping himself up against the head of the bed and wrapping an arm around Dick's shoulders. Dick felt less empty with Bruce close by.

Silence settled over them again and for a while they were content to soak in each other's presence. Or, maybe not content, but something close to it. At the very least, Dick was.

"I now know how the victims died," Bruce said finally, as if attaining this piece of the mystery was the only way he could justify his actions. 

"Yeah?"

"As we suspected, they were not the ones who came into direct contact with the drug. It must have been someone they met here. Someone whose services they may not have been able to afford, or not for long. They were exposed to trace amounts of the compound through that someone. I suspect it can be used as an aerosol and sprayed on the employees who will interact with potential clients."

"The servant?"

Dick felt Bruce nod. "Although I am not sure if that is all it takes. I only noticed the effects of the drug after... after the kiss we shared. Either the drug is potent enough that even tasting it through another person can have the same effect, or you can have the same effect through the combination of factors."

"Sorry," Dick said, wanting to curl in on himself. "For kissing you. For everything. I shouldn't..."

"No, Dick. It was my fault. I should never have let you come here."

"Then who?"

"No one. I could have gone by myself."

Dick shook his head. "You would've hurt a person who can't take it."

"I might not have gotten that far."

"Still. Better if it was me."

"No, Dick, I—"

Dick shushed Bruce with his fingers on his lips. "Let's talk another time. Too tired to think. Hold me now and sleep."

Bruce and he would have to confront what happened sooner or later. But Dick couldn't sort through his own thoughts if he wasn't even aware of having any. Never mind that Bruce would dismiss any of Dick's reassurances and confessions while he was in this state. Because Dick was likely going to confess. Again. And he didn't want Bruce to reject him this time because he questioned Dick's soundness of mind.

Better to wait. 

Things between them were at a precarious stage, the fallout possibly fatal for their relationship. Even if Dick could convince Bruce that nothing he had done tonight had been unwanted, there was no telling if Bruce could accept Dick's feelings this time around. But Dick had to know. After tonight, Dick could not go back to ignoring them against. He had grown so used to pretending they didn't exist that he hadn't noticed how exhausting it was to keep them in check.

He couldn't go back to that.

He literally couldn't put the lid back on them. Even if Bruce still couldn't allow himself to want him, stubborn old man that he was, Dick had to risk baring his soul to him. What Bruce did what that information would be up to him, but at least Dick wouldn't have to hide that part of him any longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "After All" by The Crüxshadows.


End file.
